


A Reckoning

by BishopDeaconCardinal



Series: A Bad Idea, Probably [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Deacon is a little shit, Dirty Talk, Inappropriate Erections, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BishopDeaconCardinal/pseuds/BishopDeaconCardinal
Summary: Deacon messes with him this time on purpose.
Relationships: Doctor Carrington/Deacon (Fallout)
Series: A Bad Idea, Probably [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590382
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	A Reckoning

The piles of documents on Carrington’s desk grew like a C. perfringens bacteria. Quickly and much like the food poisoning it could cause, rapidly making Carrington feel sick. 

With so few agents and their new HQ finally established, he was finding himself falling behind. Any attempt to catch up left him asleep on his desk and his coffee at a frigid temperature by his elbow. 

He had headphones, only one ear worked. Glory had found them and demanded he use them when listening to holotapes. Not all of them of course, just the ones that were detailing various medical procedures. 

He found it strange that a woman who tore through people with a mini gun could be so squeamish about an appendectomy. 

Regardless he wore them sometimes even when they weren't medical if for nothing else the slight sound canceling it provided when Tom was on one of his more obscure conspiracy theory rants. 

And today seemed to be particularly grinding for Tom, as his insight into if his eyes were direct cameras for the institute continued to give him trouble. He didn’t seem to be able to find a way to perform his test without possibly blinding himself. And when Carrington had told him he could proceed it was with the condition that under no circumstances in any way could he blind himself or others. 

Tinker Tom gave another groan of frustration and Carrington dug his headphones out of the desk drawer. He pulled them on and plugged them into the terminal before looking around for a holotape to play. One he had heard so the content was less important to listen to, but instead simply act as another barrier between him and Tom’s loud recalculations of his current eye drop formula. 

He turned to grab the folder for his current report before digging through his drawers for a pre-war medical lecture when a holotape that he couldn’t remember sat unassumingly on the top of his folders. He picked it up and flipped it over and found written on it in tape and marker, ‘S.A.C.’, which wouldn’t be terribly important if it weren’t that those were his initials and there was a heart underneath them. 

He put it into his terminal and hit play and was greeted with a voice he didn’t recognize. 

“H-Hello? Is this thing on?” 

He looked at his terminal which only provided the file name, which was simply: <3

“Dr. Carrington? I just-” there was a gasp and Carrington found himself scooting closer to the terminal. Was this a recording of someone being tortured? Why do they know his name?

“I just wanted you to know that I notice you all the time,” there was a groan, but it sounded slightly more positive of a noise than he’d expected if this person was being tortured. 

The voice on the tape moaned in such a filthy way that Carrington felt his cheeks heat up. 

He could tell it was a man, on the younger side but still an adult. He still couldn’t quite place the accent or who.

“Doctor- Stanley. I want you here. I want this to be your hand,” he moaned again, low and desperate. His heavy breathing being picked up wherever this was being recorded on. 

He knew he should for sure be concerned about how this young man knew his name, how this tape got on his desk, but at the moment his main concern was how to sneak out so he could relieve his very sudden and very obvious erection. 

“Oh God, fuck! Sometimes I watch your clever fingers and I wish I could reach out and hold them, suck on them, put them- ah!- in me, oh fuck.” and whoever he was was getting close. There was a hitch in his breathing and a cry and a whimper. 

Carrington brought his fist up to his lips and gently bit down on his finger. When the man on the holotape came he almost broke the skin. 

_ Fuck. _ Whoever this was they were- and part of his brain supplied ‘compromise to security’- hot. They sounded fucking amazing. He wanted to- he just  _ wanted.  _

The tap on his shoulder caused him to break the pencil he’d had been holding in his other hand. He turned quickly to find Deacon looming over his shoulder, Carrington pushed the headphones off, “You.”

“See, I thought it was some of my better work. Which was your favorite part, I thrive on critique.” Deacon had a new face, new posture, new clothes. But most irritatingly the  _ same _ style of sunglasses sitting on his nose. 

Carrington started to stand up to respond, to get in his face when he realized quite how obvious that would make his current ‘personal situation’ was. (That is how he was currently referring to his very pressing erection. Deacon wasn’t helping.)

“Oh! Oh you want to do something about this?” Deacon gestured to all of him but the circle he made with his hand was just tight enough a circle drawn in the air to clearly gesture to his lower half. “Here, let me help.”

Carrington didn’t know what Deacon meant unless he planned on sucking him off in the middle of HQ. He imagines getting off with Tinker Tom rambling about microbes in his semen might kill the entire affair. At least he wouldn’t have this personal issue anymore. 

Instead Deacon picks up a file off his desk, one he thinks has specs for a small improvement to their makeshift thermometers, and opens it before slapping his hand over his own mouth, “Are-are you sure?” he pushes the folder towards Carrington before pulling it back to himself and re-reading the same line like he’s shocked, “Doc, this can’t be true.” 

To Carrington’s horror, Deacon sniffled and wiped under his sunglasses. Desmedona looked up from where she had been working, “Deacon, what’s happening?”

“It’s- don’t worry Dez. It’s not Railroad stuff, it’s-it’s-” and even though Deacon was now speaking in his normal voice, albeit about to make himself cry, Carrington was still reminded of the stuttered hello at the beginning of his holotape. Deacon took a deep breath in and tried again after a particularly loud sob, “It’s personal.”

Dez frowned, “Do you think you could possibly take a moment up top?”

Deacon dropped the folder into Carrington’s lap like he couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. Carrington picked it up and kept it subtly, but pointedly, level with his crotch and followed Deacon out. 

The catacombs were empty. Glory had this grand idea to fill it with ferals. The church above too. Make it a challenge for someone to find their headquarters had been her reasoning. 

But now as they were empty, Deacon easily led him through them and up to the church itself. 

At the top of the wooden staircase but still concealed from the open area of the church, Deacon pushed him against the wall, “Well hello,” he pressed the flat of his hand to the folder Carrington still had covering himself and provided a delicious amount of pressure. 

He groaned before he could catch himself than cleared his throat, “Yes, alright. Was this just to watch me make a fool out of myself?” 

“Bit more than that,” he threaded his foot behind Carrington’s calf and before Carrington could think, pushed his leg forward causing him to lose his footing slide down the wall.

“ _ What the fuck _ ,” he snapped. 

Deacon just lowered himself into his lap. 

_ Oh. _

And once more for the room, he repeated, “Oh.”

Deacon smiled and leaned up onto his knees, “Scoot away from the wall.”

And once more unthinkingly, Carrington complied. In their game of wills he knew he had just lost. 

Deacon moved so he fully was in Carrington’s lap, facing him and pressing his hips against Carrington’s. 

Carrington becoming aware that Deacon also seemed to have somewhat of a personal situation. 

Deacon started on his zipper. He thought for a moment he should help him or return the favor than remembered this was  _ Deacon.  _ If he wanted to do this fine but Carrington wasn’t going to fucking help him. 

He got Carrington’s trousers undone and immediately got his open in too and Carrington watched in fascination as he stroked himself a few times before wrapping his hand around both of them. 

Carrington choked off any version of Deacon’s name. He hoped Deacon had thought maybe he was saying a pet name of some sort, anything but his actual name. 

He realized Deacon hadn’t probably heard him over the sound of his own breathy gasps. Deacon stroked them again and Carrington briefly let his head fall backwards and Deacon set a slow pace. He quickly righted himself when he realized how vulnerable that left him, how bared his throat was like that. It was trite but he was already behind in whatever game this was. 

Deacon wasn’t helping himself, however, his bottom lip (differently shaped from the last one, he wondered briefly if that would feel differently than before wrapped around his cock) was firmly between his teeth.

“I want you to fuck me,” he gasped. He was still on top, and this wasn’t a question like Carrington had required it to be last time, but it still had that same air. That same  _ submittance _ as last time. 

It wasn’t a question but he still answered it like one, “Fine. Do you have lube?”

Deacon nodded as he kicked his shoes off and started working his trousers off. 

That’s when Carrington’s lust addled brain caught up the fact that this whole time Deacon’s shoes had been untied. His shoes untied, his belt and weapons absent. The little shit had planned this. 

Which should have been obvious with the holotape, but Carrington wasn’t finding the critical thinking part of his brain to be at top speeds. 

Deacon looked back at him started scooting backwards towards him once his lower half was stripped bare. He moved his hands on either side of Carrington’s hips while facing away from him. He leaned all his weight on one hand and grasped Carrington with the other, briefly running lube from  _ somewhere _ up and down it before he held Carrington steady as he lowered himself onto his dick. 

And once again, he proved just how prepared he was. 

He paused before letting himself slide farther down Carrington’s length. 

Carrington could now guess what some of the sounds in the holotape were caused by. The ease in which Deacon was able to take him showed how he had opened himself up earlier. 

Apparently opened himself up and recorded it. 

Carrington shivered before locking his hands around Deacon’s hips and thrusting up. Deacon cried out and Carrington felt some weird pride in finding Deacon’s prostate so soon. 

And even though this was some continuance of warped their mind game, this time Carrington wrapped his hand around his hand around Deacon to help him along 

He was too close to try to get Deacon off with his cock untouched. They were on a restrained schedule only due to placement of where they were fucking (in a goddamn hallway) and how close Carrington was to coming. 

He stroked Deacon with almost cruel efficiency, working his length, swiping his thumb over the head, and briefly grasping his balls. 

Deacon rode him in such a way Carrington had a fleeting thought of concern for the cramping in his calves, when Deacon bared down and forced another gasp from him. 

When Deacon came, he had his head thrown back onto Carrington’s shoulder, the same way Carrington had stopped doing earlier because he felt it was some primal show of submittance. 

When Deacon tightened around him he leaned his head forward onto Deacons shoulder in some strange reasoning to do the opposite of exposing his throat. 

Briefly he wrapped his arms around Deacon’s shoulders as he caught his breathe. Deacon was laid bonelessly against him for a few moments before leaning back on his one hand once more and moving up and off of Carrington. 

Carrington watched as deacon took off his jacket, pulled off his shirt, put the jacket back on, and begun to help clean up his thighs from where Deacon had leaked onto him. 

Unlike last time, Deacon was dressed and out the door before Carrington had time to re-do his belt. He as no idea what started any of that encounter but if this was the outcome he was very supportive. 

At least his post orgasmic brain state was. 

**Author's Note:**

> I heard you guys wanted more in this tag. (I'm guys.)
> 
> I'm on twitter! @BDeCardinal


End file.
